start at the open
by dreamscapenymph
Summary: to he-with-whom-I-should-have-had-many-elevator-moments-with, please hold the frickin' elevator door open.


**start at the open**

_to he-with-whom-I-should-have-had-many-elevator-moments-with, please hold the frickin' elevator door open._

**_._**

**_._**

She was already running her fastest. Hands laden with books and a humungous messenger bag filled with papers and more books, Sakura could not help but sigh as the elevator door closed, she a mere three meters away. With a guy inside. She couldn't help but fume as she saw the elevator stop at the seventh floor, a mere story lower than her eighth. She was sure that the guy had seen her running to catch the elevator, and he was just _freakin__'_ staring at her huffing and puffing, trying to catch the elevator as its doors closed. And for how many times has this happened, already? Every weekday for two weeks now?

(Never mind that the guy was cute.)

Sakura grumbled and shifted the histology textbook to her other arm. It was time to take action. She took out her pen and the collection of post-its from her bag.

* * *

><p><em>To He-with-whom-I-should-have-had-many-elevator-moments-with,<em>

_How are you?_

_S._

* * *

><p><em>To <em>**S**_He-with-whom-I-should-have-had-many-elevator-moments-with,_

_How __are __you__? _**I****'****m ****fine.**

_**S.**_

Sakura saw the post-it stuck beside the glass that housed ads inside the elevator. Once again, the elevator door had closed before she could even get a foot in. And with _him_inside, of course. Of course.

Frickin' asshole was testing her temper. How dare he just add an 's' to her own post-it note?

(On another note, though, his name started with an S, too? Interesting.)

* * *

><p><em>To He-with-whom-I-should-have-had-many-elevator-moments-with,<em>

_I'm fine, too. But really, would it hurt to press one teensy tiny little button to make the door open again? Or at least keep it open? To me?_

_S._

* * *

><p><em>To <em>**S**_He-with-whom-I-should-have-had-many-elevator-moments-with,_

_I__'__m __fine, __too. __But __really, __would __it __hurt __to __press __one __teensy __tiny __little __button __to __make __the __door __open __again? __Or __at __least __keep __it __open? __To __me? _**Too ****troublesome.**

_**S.**_

* * *

><p><em>And I suppose writing on a new note would also be troublesome?<em>

* * *

><p><em>And I suppose writing on a new note would also be troublesome?<em>**Yes. ****Saves ****the ****environment, ****too.**

* * *

><p>This last note confirmed all of her suspicions. He was a—<p>

_Lazy ass._

* * *

><p><em>Lazy <em>_ass. _**Smart ****observation**.

* * *

><p><em>I will kill you.<em>

* * *

><p><strong>You'd get jailed.<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Hallelujah. A note of your own.<em>

* * *

><p><em>Hallelujah. A note of your own.<em> **Hah.**

* * *

><p><em>Or not.<em>

* * *

><p>It was Monday of the next week, and it was her most grueling day as a med student: anatomy, physiology, histology, and their corresponding labs. With their corresponding books. Sakura wondered fleetingly why she just didn't bother with photocopies. Then she remembered that well, it was basically against the law. She sighed as she walked to her building—<p>

-just in time to see the elevator doors close again.

_Blast it!_

She was in the process of glowering at the elevator (that was headed to the seventh floor, she had no doubts) when it opened again.

And—the Guy was there. His finger was on the 'open door' button on the elevator, his eyes trained on a spot three inches above her head.

Sakura blinked. And stayed put.

The Guy's eyes flicked towards hers in annoyance, and there was a split second pause before he said in an irritated tone, "Come in already."

Slowly, Sakura followed.

He let go of his hold on the button and the doors closed.

It was a quiet elevator ride, but as they reached the first floor she heard him huff again.

She looked at him questionably before she felt her books being taken from her arms.

Sakura was about to open her mouth to remark—_what__is__this__all__about?_ when she saw that he had punched in the button for eight, instead of seven.

She looked at him, carrying her books, and looking decidedly at the ceiling. She smiled, bit her lower lip, and looked the other way.

The elevator doors bypassed the seventh floor and stopped at the eighth floor.

_open._

* * *

><p>.<p>

.

AN: Not sure if it was obvious, but in the notes, Sakura's writing in italics, Shikamaru's writing in bold. yep.


End file.
